Run, Bane
by Grandoverlord
Summary: Malec, post CoLS, unfortunately. When Magnus realizes his fatal mistake, will Alec ever forgive him, or himself?
1. Run Bane, run

_Alexander…_

He always had a wall built up around him, one that no one could destroy, try as they would. Even Izzy, with her sisterly protectiveness that she used like the ammunition in her catapults couldn't break down that barrier when it came down to it. Slowly, though, it had started crumbling.

It had started with the blushes- those adorable blushes- whenever Magnus looked at him. The way he could never hide it was so entirely endearing that it was the second thing that attracted the sparkly warlock to the boy; the first being his beautiful blue eyes. When he came back to see Magnus, another brick fell out of place, a stone knocked down to the ground out of that massive wall.

And slowly, brick by brick, inch by inch, they had taken down that barrier together. First it was a held stare, then a grasped hand, and finally, a kiss. Magnus had thought that finally, he and Alec would be able to be together without hesitation on Alec's part. Without the normal wards he held up against any talk of relationships. Things had worked, for a while.

_That idiot._

As soon as they had finally gotten together, Alec discarding his inhibitions, and even Magnus opening himself up to heartbreak- which was something he had never really done before- Alec went…and ruined it. Ruined the plans they had, the future that they had made. Was it really that hard to imagine growing old, which Magnus stayed young?

_ What if the situation were reversed?_

Magnus shook those thoughts out of his head, but not before an image flashed briefly in his thoughts. Alec, young and beautiful, standing next to an old, withered Magnus. Green eyes dulled with age, and wrinkles folding his face like a piece of origami, he was hunched over, hand in hand with his lover. Would he really be able to do that? Watch himself crumple away to dust, while Alec stayed alive and young and perfect forever?

_Trust? Yeah, right. _

They had had something, Magnus knew. It was more than just something, actually. It was the best damn thing that had probably ever happened to the warlock; and then Alexander Lightwood had betrayed him. Even considering what he was- it was a violation of his trust. Magnus kept telling himself that, over and over again. Just an excuse not to run back to the institute and beg for Alec to take him back.

He doubted that Alec even would, at this point. After dropping off his key, the shadowhunter had studiously gone about avoiding the warlock. Not that that was hard, considering that Magnus hadn't left his apartment except once, when he saw Alec coming back to pick up his stuff. Practically sprinting out the door, he had hid in the elevator and watched his former boyfriend go inside, mouth grimly set and determined. Not noticing the shadows under his eyes, or the way his clothes hung on his body, as he hadn't been eating right. Just noticing the sudden pain that struck him- again- as he realized that he knew Alec would take the stairs instead of the elevator. He always did.

Burying his head in his hands, the High Warlock of Brooklyn slowly shuffled over to the bathroom. He hadn't showered in almost a week, not since the breakup. He probably looked disgusting; good. That was all he deserved. Besides, who was there to look good for? No one to impress- he had stopped taking jobs, claiming he needed personal leave as a relative had died.

_He might as well be dead. _

After an agonizingly long shower, he looked at himself seriously in the mirror for the first time since he had left that elevator. His hair, normally intricately gelled and glittery, was splayed in a mess of black strands, going every direction. Two bruise-like half moons highlighted the unders of his eyes, and whatever makeup he was wearing had streamed and dried. Running his hands through his hair, he tried to summon the energy to do something with it. He couldn't though- he was just too lethargic. It felt like someone had died, even though as far as he knew, Alexander Lightwood was alive and well, talking about how he had almost gotten away with making some moronic warlock a mortal.

Who was he kidding? Alec had regretted it. Truly and totally regretted it. He had said so, apologized over and over. Pleaded with him. And Magnus had shut him down, ignored him, and said no. Why? Was it just anger? Or the bitter betrayal of someone he thought he could trust? Alec…He wouldn't have done it. Magnus knew that now. He should have known it then.

_ Don't do it, Bane._

_ Bane._

_ Don't you dare do it._

_ Don't even think about it._

Magnus swiped a coat from the table next to him, and ran outside. He didn't notice that it was raining. He didn't care. The institute was only five minutes away.

_Run, Bane. Run._


	2. Payphone

Rain pounded on the roof of the Institute with what seemed like resounding, thunderous crashes in the dead silence of Alec's room. Most mundanes would probably be listening to loud, sad music right now and wallowing in self pity. He had already gone through that phase, though his music was a bit astereotypical, given that it was Bach instead of Katy Perry. The kind of music Magnus listened to.

Magnus probably hadn't even gone through any of that. He might have cried over the time he had lost with Alec, when he could have been pursuing far more…willing, able lovers. Someone who was willing to give their heart away after a few softly spoken words, not weeks of reluctance and shy refusal. It was his own fault Magnus had broken up with him; he knew that with every fiber of his body. There was nothing he could do about it anymore- Magnus had made it very clear that there was no chance of forgiveness, no appeals or reprieves.

Absently, the boy noted that two uneven tracks of tears had started running down his face without any conscious thought on his part. It was normal enough. Alec would just have to stop moping around eventually, despite the fact that Izzy wasn't afraid of saying how he ought to go to Magnus and demand to be taken back. Where would that get him, even if Magnus had said yes? He could see now. They had been doomed from the start. No matter how much Alec had loved his sparkly warlock, it had never been reciprocated. Magnus just need someone to keep him company on a cold night.

Months of firsthand experience, shared kisses and gentle whispers of assurance fought against his negative thoughts, but he ignored them. He had given in to those feelings at first, and look where it had gotten him- curled up in fetal position on his bed, sobbing silently, night after night.

Yes, Magnus had taken his heart and smashed it into a thousand little pieces, but he would just have to pick them up again. People got over breakups all the time. He finally understood the word 'heartbreak', though. It felt like a thousand little shards of glass were piercing his lungs, shattering outward from his heart. Several days later, every time he was within a few miles of Magnus's house, he felt it get hard to breathe. Even the name, the tabooed subject at the institute, sent a pang through Alec's significantly slighter frame.

Why wouldn't he stop thinking about it though? It was illogical. No matter what, he couldn't get images, little clips from a video of his relationship, out of his thoughts. It was like watching Romeo and Juliet (One of Magnus's favorite plays. He would always tell the story about how he saw it performed in the globe theatre and met Shakespeare. Apparently, the guy had started snickering when the actors messed up their lines.) when you knew how sad the ending would be, and because of it, you're unable to appreciate the romance. All you can think of is the impending deaths, the tragedy.

_Go ahead and angst about it, Lightwood._ Magnus's voice sneered in his thoughts, jolting him out of his silent reverie. Maybe another half hour of music wouldn't hurt. Drown out everything else he was thinking about. Reminiscing, really. Things he would rather avoid if he had a choice in the matter. That's what it had come down to- choices. And he had made the wrong one. Even considering what he had, ending his warlock's immortality and future happiness for himself? How selfish could he be? Everyone thought of Jace as selfish; Jace, the brave, confident, sarcastic selfless Shadowhunter that was willing to lay down his life for any good cause. No, it was all him. The scared, easily embarrassed, naïve, _stupid_ Alexander Lightwood, who had served his heart up on a silver platter.

Alec uncurled himself from the ball he had formed, as if that would somehow stop the pounding headache and nausea he had come to associate with thoughts of Magnus. Walking over to the one electronic he valued, and that _he_ had insisted that Alec buy, he cranked the volume on his computer way up. It was on his 'liked' youtube playlist, which consisted of both his normal classical music and stuff Magnus had probably liked while he was asleep and still logged in. Damn that warlock.

_I'm at a payphone_

_Trying to call home,_

_All of my change I spent on you._

_Where have the times gone?_

_Baby it's all gone;_

_Where are the plans we made for two?_

Sighing, Alec closed his eyes and threw himself back at the plain black comforter laid messily over his bed. He'd never heard this song before, but found it oddly fitting. And how did that guy hit those notes? Letting his mind drift, he didn't realize the doorbell was ringing until it had already rung three times. At first, figuring it was just part of the weird sound effects of the time, he ignored it and tried to return to his day dreaming.

Finally, he groaned and sat up on his bed, hoping to hear the footsteps in his hallway that would indicate someone else getting the door. Listening intently, Alec sighed. Jace was doing who knows what with Clary, (and Alec honestly didn't want to know) and Izzy was dead to the world after a serious party the night before, that Alec suspected had involved a good amount of hard liquor.

He couldn't imagine what he looked like right then, what with his hair a mess of splayed black grease, the deep bags that had developed under his blue eyes that contrasted wildly with everything he was. Magnus had loved those eyes. Now Alec found himself hating how pale it they made his skin look, how inky his hair was in contrast to them. Like he wasn't insecure enough to start with. He had erased one problem and replaced it with yet another. There would always be some imperfection with everyone, him especially. Maybe with the exception of Magnus Bane, high warlock of Brooklyn

Alec hurried over to the bathroom and set the faucet over his hair, hoping that it wouldn't be repulsed by the coat of grease that had amounted over it. He could excuse his dilapidated appearance for just getting out of the shower. It was a trick that he had often used before, when he couldn't be bothered to get ready for whatever stupid dance Jace was dragging him to. Oh, goody. He was taking after Jace, the perfect role model of responsibility. Even the sarcasm.

Or was that himself? He didn't know any more. A good bit of who he was had been induced by Magnus's influence. The silent confidence and reassurance, all him. Even his newfound inkling sense of humor that had barely started to bloom before Magnus had cut him off.

Shaking his head and sending stray droplets flying as he made his way down the hall, he smoothed his hair to the best of his ability. The Clave already didn't like him because of his sexual orientation, he probably shouldn't add to that by looking like a vagrant. Too late, he thought as he opened the door. One does not keep the Clave waiting.

Or Magnus Bane.

He almost slammed the door shut in Magnus's face. He almost hid behind the door and cowered, hoping that Magnus would leave. He almost broke down in tears and begged for him to take him back. He almost did a lot of things. What he did do however, was stand there and taken in the sodden Warlock, dressed all in black. How uncharacteristic, he remarked mentally.

Keeping his expression masked and neutral, he raised his eyebrows. Of all the times he had imagined their reunion, it was never like this. He would smile and take Magnus's hand, hug him and say how very sorry he was. But in the coldest, most distant voice he had ever used, Alec just smiled politely and said:

"What brings you to the institute, Warlock Bane?"


	3. Marionettes

Magnus stood before the institute, his slicked black hair drenched in the oncoming downpour that hovered over Brookyln. The coat he had grabbed, a dark blue trench that clashed terribly with his black sweatpants was so soaked that he didn't think it would ever get dry, but no matter. It had been Alec's anyway. Alec had never come round to get his things, and Magnus had been sitting, surrounded by them for days.

Perhaps it had been masochistic, laying half drunk on his couch where they had sat so many times, reliving the memories that plagued him with every passing day. At first, they had been accompanied by a burning anger, and he had started ripping up pictures he had gotten from their vacation in Europe. But eventually, he would always tape them back together. Cling to them like they were the only thing anchoring him to the real world.

The High Warlock of Brooklyn, who never waited for anyone, was standing in the midst of an enormous thunderstorm, ringing the doorbell. An odd thought struck him. _Why can't Shadowhunters just get a buzzer?. Hello, this is Isabelle Lightwood, go screw yourselves. And seriously, don't come back. Hello, this is Wayland. Jace Wayland. Or, if you prefer. Lightwood. Jace Lightwood. Or, for variety, Don't-you-dare-that-cost-more-than-you're-worth. I go by all three. _

_Hello, this is Alec Lightwood. I'm probably trying to pick which ratty sweater to wear today right now, please come back at a later time._

Alec.

His heart started fluttering in his chest, beating way too fast for something that had to last as long as it did. What would he say? Could he just apologize, and get it over with? Something told him that what he had done couldn't be fixed with a couple of words- but surely Alec hadn't believed him. Weeks and months of him telling him how in love he was, what he would do for him; it couldn't have all gone to waste in a mere second, just like that, could it?

He rang the doorbell again. The regular Magnus would have probably crossed his arms and started tapping his foot. Maybe send a fire message to tell them to hurry up. Yell at the people inside the door about how he was on a tight schedule and didn't have time for this crap. But today was a personal call, something he couldn't stand waiting for but knew he had to. So he just stood there instead, running one hand through his hair to try to make himself look decently presentable. He probably resembled a starving rat that stumbled into a pond, but there was nothing he could do about that.

The door to the institute was so wonderfully familiar it felt like he was stranded outside his own house, like the time he had forgotten his key in the 19th century and had been forced to blast his custom made mahogany door in with a fireball. Best way to greet your boyfriend ever, he decided. _Hey, I'm sorry for breaking up with you and smashing your 200 year old door in, but will you forgive me?_ Alec would slam the door in his face. Or…Not, considering he wouldn't _have_ one.

After several minutes of waiting impatiently, and wringing his hands -_Magnus Bane_ wringing his hands?- the door to the institute opened slowly, wide blue eyes peering out from behind it. The same deep purple bags hung under them, mirroring Magnus's. Alec always had been an insomniac. There were just too many thoughts in his head to let him sleep at night, Magnus had always thought.

Opening the door entirely, Magnus could see that he had caught Alec at a superbly bad time. Hair more mussed and just as wet as his own, the boy had obviously just stepped out of the shower. When was the last time the warlock had taken anything close to a shower? Probably right before they broke up, over a week ago. The rain had washed away his stink, but it was easy to see Alec was handling this a lot better than him.

He had reverted to his old wardrobe, wearing a moth worn sweatshirt that had probably been black once. There was no trace of Magnus's influence anywhere on his persona. It was like he had never happened. They had never happened.

That's what Magnus thought, at least, until he saw his smile. It was the most agonizing smile that he had ever seen, stretched and thin, the lips held up with puppet strings. Like some invisible force tugged on the corners of the boy's mouth, making them convulse upwards against his own will. Magnus had grown good at reading people over the years, one of his few natural talents. And the empty look that that grin reflected on Alec's face was so paper thin and transparent that it broke Magnus's heart, splitting it in two.

And then it was like someone had taken a pair of scissors and just –_snip_- his smile fell of his face and shattered on the rough stone steps. He twitched, his eyebrows briefly angling upwards, the lines of his face deepening. For just a second; then it was gone, replaced again by his marionette smile.

"What brings you to the institute, Warlock Bane?"

Oh god. _Warlock Bane_. Magnus had really done a number here, hadn't he? It was worse than he had ever thought. He had never expected Alec to fling open the door and kiss him on the spot, but at least retain some sort of familiarity with him. He knew that Magnus still loved him, the warlock had said that when he broke his own heart. _Not that it makes a difference. _

_It does. _

"…Alec..." He choked, his voice barely coming out of his throat. Covering his mouth with one hand, he blinked away the mist that threatened to overcome his eyes. What had he done?

"I came to apologize, Alec. For everythin-"

"I know what we had was a mistake Magnus. You don't need to apologize for not loving me." Alec was looking Magnus in his slit pupil eyes, a sure sign that he wasn't lying. Pale complexion unstained by a blush, he was dead serious. Alec never could lie, so Magnus could deduce that he was dead serious, believing really and truly believing everything he said.

Every word that came out of Alec's mouth was calculated and clipped. Like he had practiced, rehearsed what he would say.

Magnus acted without thinking, closing the distance between them in one stride, his long legs eliminating the gap instantaneously. One hand reached up, and Alec paled even further.

_Slap!_

The noise rang out in the relative silence that had always seemed so unusual for New York. An angry red mark stained Alec's perfect skin, a shape for shape imprint of Magnus's hand. He took a step back, holding a disbelieving hand to where the blotch stood out against his pale skin. It stuck out like a sore thumb, and his baby blue eyes widened, a mildly shocked expression taking hold of his face.

"How. Dare. You. Alec Lightwood. How can you say that? How can you just stand there? Dammit, I thought you knew that I loved you the entire time."

"Loved?" Alec echoed emptily. He cringed. Bad choice of word.

"Love. Present tense, Alec. And it _does_ make a difference. Not because I'm Magnus, not because you're a Shadowhunter, but because you're you. Imperfect, flawless _Alec_."

Alec's mouth set into a hard line, and he turned, showing his back to the man. Removing his hand from his face, he starting pulling the door closed behind him.

"It seems you have the wrong person_, Warlock_ Bane. And please do not return, it seems that you're a bit behind on etiquette. But who am I to scold? I wouldn't want to make you feel like a pet, after all." The last of his mini-speech was so full of venom, that Magnus found himself dumbstruck. His very own words, made to inflict pain on Alec, were now being flung back against him with the same purpose in mind. "Goodbye," He whispered.

The door slammed.

Magnus crumpled on the street, not even noticing the absent drops of rain that splattered his shoulders and he lay on the steps of the institute. He felt as if he was falling into himself, folding until there was nothing left.

_Maybe_ _that would be better, if there wasn't anything left to hurt. _

Blinking, he stood up abruptly. What was he thinking? He had survived the 80's- how could one breakup put thoughts of suicide in his head? It wasn't just a breakup, he knew, but it was always Magnus's thing to try and fix something until it worked, not give up halfway through.

That wasn't what struck him as particularly odd, though. The voice had sounded remarkably like Alec's.


	4. Down the Rabbit Hole

_**Okay. I am so sorry about this. I didn't even realize it had been so long. With November, I had NaNoWriMo, so I didn't post then, and I meant to in December, promise! I just…forgot. So, anyway, here's the next chapter. The end is really confusing, and I apologize for that. But remember, reviews fuel my fingers! Any theories, guys?**_

* * *

Alec stood on the other end of the door, just resting his head against the weathered surface, not moving. All that held him up were those puppet strings that had kept his smile. He could make it a couple steps to his room before he broke, he was sure of that. Still, he didn't feel quite right to start that journey back yet. Magnus had been there. Magnus had asked for forgiveness, denied all of Alec's accusations with point blank accuracy. He always knew exactly what to say when they were together; one of Bane's endless talents. Now, instead of stabbing him with each breath he took, his heart felt like it was melting, it was beating so quickly. Was it possible to actually spontaneously combust on the spot? Maybe he was shaking fast enough for that to happen.

Walking quickly, briskly, he pushed his way into his room. The door was painted a simple black, like most of the interior. Pushed into the far corner of the room was his bed, a dull black and white accented twin, with a single pillow tossed lackadaisically against on end. There was no headboard, so he alternated nights sleeping facing alternate directions. On the pillow was an almost permanent wet spot where he had put his head when he cried, that first night. Since then, he had discovered it was more effective to use the shower. Izzy had noticed when he had used the pillow. If he wanted to keep that door, he knew he'd have to use the bathroom. It was attached to his room with a similarly painted door to the previously mentioned one.

A tall wardrobe, a dark brown wood with Mark-like patterns winding up it stood in the other corner. A desk in the third. The rest of the room was empty, with a cream colored carpet. There was nothing besides a single picture of Max that defined it from any of the other rooms in the Institute. All the other things that he had reminded him of Magnus. He had gotten rid of it all, burned it in the library one night while Jace and Izzy had been out. Only Iz actually knew about the breakup; Jace was still oblivious. And it would be all the better if he never found out, thought that his brother was happy forever.

Jace wouldn't ask questions would he? Even that lovable blockhead had limits sometimes. Maybe he'd realize on his own, or after Alec got over him.

_And when would that be?_

Sighing, he collapsed on to the bed, subconsciously hoping to dream of Magnus tonight. He didn't even care that he was on the wrong end, with his feet resting on the damp pillow. He didn't even notice that his hair was still damp. What did it matter? The boy was bone tired. Something about all of this had just exhausted him more than normal, body and mind. Although thoughts and ideas and hopes and inspirations still raced through his head, soon enough, Alexander Lightwood was lying sprawled out over his covers and snoring lightly. Despite everything, he slept.

* * *

Magnus was tired. He was tired of everything there was, really. Of living with this heartache, with wanting Alec back. Would it all be better if he just went to sleep? He could deal with all of this in the morning. He felt as if his bones were already gone as he dragged himself back to the apartment. He didn't have enough energy left to open a portal, and after all, his house was only 5 minutes away.

Not at the rate he was going.

Could he help it if he was more tired than normal? The look on Alec's face when he opened the door, the way it fell instead of rose like it had before, still tugged at him. He looked like shit, but nobody noticed beyond the glamour he had just cast up around himself. It was weak, and any mundane could have seen through it if they had chosen to. He just had to make sure he wasn't bumping into anyone, and he'd be fine. God, was he tired.

20 minutes later, he shuffled into his apartment and discarded the sopping coat at the door. He was disgusting. He might not have smelled bad, but there was a voice arguing about whether or not that could count as a shower battling common sense in his mind. There, Magnus Bane had common sense. Why hadn't he earlier? _Slapping him was _definitely_ the best thing to do, you moron._ But he had just…made him so upset. Saying all of that worthless denial stuff was enough to push anyone over the edge. He wanted to scream, to throw things against the wall like he had earlier. The warlock cast a longing glance over towards the empty-looking end table that had once held a 6th dynasty oriental vase. It was probably in the middle of a mundane junk yard right now.

The man ran a hand through his hair, noticing the repelling grime that came clean with his hand. That did _not _ count as a shower, he decided. He would take one in the morning. How did that song from Annie go? Stupid little kid. Normally, he loved the musical with all of his glittery heart, but right now, just the idea of her optimism appalled him to the point where the T.V would end up with bright blue scorch marks if he watched it.

Now, more than ever, he had to work on controlling his magic. With his emotions raging all over the place, and his thoughts not doing much better, it would be all too easy for it to get out of control. If that happened, he'd either blow up the entire building, or it would be raining giraffes for the next couple of weeks. As an old and fairly powerful Warlock, it would most definitely be bad if his power exploded on him. He'd managed to keep it from happening to him for the most part throughout his life, never drinking too much, and always exuding little bits whenever he could. If a Warlock went too long without using his or her magic, it built up like water at a dam, and eventually, that dam burst. It could be compared to that- that was how the Silent Brothers had explained it to him all those years ago.

It had been a week since he had let out any magic. With a gasp, he summoned a blanket, feeling the rest of his cyanic blue sparks battling to come out of him with it. It was physically painful, swelling feeling that wasn't one mundanes ever had the pleasure of suffering through. Gritting his teeth, the Warlock stumbled towards the bed room. It was best to be lying down when it exploded.

He didn't make it.

A burst a bright blue light, and a silent scream accompanied Magnus as he stumbled, fell, and hit the ground. His vision swum with azure dots, weaving their way around the apartment. He couldn't tell whether they were magic, or just him passing out. He didn't have time to figure out which one it was before his eyes closed.

* * *

Alec saw Magnus smiling. That was how he knew right away that he was dreaming. Magnus wouldn't smile at him anymore, especially after today. That beautiful, crooked, confident grin that he could never help but notice. This dream Warlock had nothing on the real one. There was a glow that he just didn't have, that the real one carried around with him like a second skin. His magic? Maybe.

Magnus shook his head, confused about where he was. Their- his- apartment. Nothing was off about it, other than the fact that nothing was off about it. There were no empty bottles of liquor scattered around it, no wet coat, and no singe marks anywhere. He was dreaming. And of course, Alexander was right there. That made sense, that Alec would be in his dreams.

Magnus smiled, only to find himself looking straight at the man he saw every day in the mirror. He had 3rd person dreams every now and then, but this was plain weird. Without realizing it, he had started leaning into himself. He tried to pull back, only to find that he couldn't control his own actions, besides his eyes. Frantically searching for one of the plethora of mirrors scattered about the apartment, he glanced towards it. God, he was gorgeous.

He was Alec.

Alec smiled, inhaling the scent of his Magnus. This was a memory, a quaint one that Magnus barely even remembered. It was right after their second or third date, when they had decided to get thai instead of going somewhere fancy. Alec had insisted they do nothing special for him. And yet, Magnus could feel him almost purring with satisfaction. Although watching- feeling- his boyfriend as he leaned down to kiss him felt wrong, it gave him a spreading warmth to think that he had once made Alec this happy. Beneath it, of course, was the raging, coiling mass of discomfort that he had always known Alec carried around with him whenever they were together. This was all before the Accords Hall. No one knew about them.

Alec smiled fondly at the memory, enjoying his dream to the extent that he could. This was one of his favorites.

He woke up with a start as Izzy banged on his door.

Magnus jumped awake, feeling a more than a little confused.

He had just lived his own memory. As someone else. What was going on?


End file.
